


the art of dirty talk

by aceaaronminyard (necklace)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Barebacking, Clothing Kink, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Size Difference, Size Kink, Trans Male Character, it's literally nothing but porn, this is so filthy yall, you get some Soft at the end but it's mostly just aaron being aaron so what can u do lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 22:52:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necklace/pseuds/aceaaronminyard
Summary: Aaron knows what he wants. He's known what he's wanted since he woke up this morning and saw Kevin's jersey on the floor by his bed and it still smelled like him, like lilac soap and the mix of soft boy and the school's detergent that Aaron's grown used to over the year and a half since they started – whatever they have going for them.





	the art of dirty talk

**Author's Note:**

> this was half self indulgence, half feeding the pissing contest between sj and i.
> 
> check out the [trans andrew series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/715161) as well!

The homework he needs to hand in by Wednesday is already done and safely tucked away in his backpack by the time he gets back to the dorms, desperate to release at least some of the tension coiling in his shoulders and willing to do anything to feel relaxed.

 

For nearing twelve hours he's been anxious – ready for training or working out or a quick fuck, maybe, or even just some help in getting out whatever pent up energy that can be temporarily exerted in an attempt to de-stress his jumping nerves.

 

(It's finals time. He'd much rather die if it meant he could be free in the endless nothingness of the fucking void.)

 

Which is, naturally, why he calls Kevin.

 

Dan and Matt left for their Friday date night at least an hour before he unlocked the door to his room, which means they'll be out until tomorrow morning and Aaron can be blissfully aware of his arousal in peace, so a quick call to Kevin two doors down is all it takes to get him a step closer to his satisfaction.

 

Aaron knows what he wants. He's known what he's wanted since he woke up this morning and saw Kevin's jersey on the floor by his bed and it still smelled like him, like lilac soap and the mix of soft boy and the school's detergent that Aaron's grown used to over the year and a half since they started – whatever they have going for them.

 

Aaron is checking himself out in the mirror when the knock comes at the door. It half shocks him into jolting a little bit, but another once-over and he's walking – because Minyards don’t _skip_ – to fiddle with the lock in a pair of skintight black jeans and a jersey that very clearly does not say 'Minyard, 05' printed on the back.

 

Kevin looks just as much of an asshole now as he did this morning, and Aaron refuses to feel anything about it.

 

Kevin, once he processes that the door is open, big green eyes blinking down at him in a way that Aaron chooses to interpret as confused but turned on. It's a good look on Kevin, usually, and now is no different; Kevin himself makes the wise decision to step inside before Aaron slams the door in his face and gets himself off without the added help.

 

"You want this?" Kevin asks. He looks awkward trying to ask if Aaron's sure about something he's been thinking about all day, and Aaron would find it more endearing if he wasn't two seconds too soon to being soaked through his boxers.

 

"I want to get fucked in your jersey. I wouldn't have called you here if I didn’t want this," he answers plainly. Kevin makes some sort of aborted movement with his shoulders, like he wants to shrug away the blush already heating up his cheeks, but Aaron just takes a deep breath in and heads to the couch. "You comin'?" He tosses over his shoulder.

 

Kevin huffs then follows him, but not before making sure the door is locked behind him. His shirt comes off only halfway to the couch, and even Aaron without his glasses on can see the tent already forming in the front of Kevin's sweats. Aaron eyes it almost warily, but Kevin just drops his weight onto the couch without meeting Aaron's eyes.

 

"M'gonna sit in your lap," Aaron warns, fumbling to unbutton his jeans. The zipper gives easily under his fingers, so wiggling free of the cloth is just a matter of how willing tight denim is going to be to cooperate with his thighs. His boxers almost come down with them, but Aaron keeps them firm around his hips for now and tosses the jeans aside; one look at Kevin's face says he wasn't expecting disrobing from him so soon, so Aaron distracts him by sliding onto his lap.

 

"'Ve always loved your legs," Kevin sighs. He reaches his hands out to rub along Aaron's thighs, up, fingers running along the hem of Aaron's boxers. He doesn't dare to reach farther without prompt, so Aaron grabs Kevin's left hand and slides it to the soaked material over his pussy. He jolts at Kevin's cold fingers.

 

"Love this more," Aaron urges.

 

Kevin's breath hitches, tearing his eyes away from where his fingers have started to press up against Aaron's clit to meet his eyes, wide and big and just starting to realize how needy Aaron is feeling tonight.

 

Instead of gracing that revelation with a verbal response, he rocks his hips down onto Kevin's fingers and leans forward in the same movement. In this position, Aaron is the same height as his stupidly tall boyfriend, so threading his fingers through Kevin's hair in an attempt to pull him closer isn't obstructed by their height difference.

 

Aaron lets himself get lost in the feeling of Kevin's mouth on his. A minute of kissing and rubbing turns into five minutes, ten minutes, enough for Kevin to get impatient and slip his hand into Aaron's boxers to finger him with the attitude of a man who doesn't want to separate for long enough to pull the clear obstacle off.

 

"Aaron," Kevin mutters, two fingers deep and a thumb pressed firmly to Aaron's clit, "Aaron, baby, come on. You wanna cum with just my fingers in you? Tell me."

 

Aaron groans against the seam of Kevin's lips, forcing his eyes open to see Kevin's already on his face. On one hand, he wants Kevin's cock so far in his pussy he can feel it in his gut for at least three days, but on the other hand he's _so close_ to orgasm like this and refuses to waste Kevin's fingers just because he wants to be dicked down. The jersey is loose and sweaty where a portion of it is sticking to his back, but he ignores it for the sake of a twelve-hour old fantasy come to life. Kevin's looking at the way it droops over his shoulders, hangs down over his collarbones, and Aaron watches in fascination how Kevin licks his lips when he drags his gaze down to his left hand where it's snug inside Aaron's boxers.

 

Aaron knows, without a doubt, that Kevin is going to start talking and Aaron is definitely going to cum soon.

 

"Fingers," he finally answers, voice hoarse. Kevin doesn't even bother looking up at him, just swirls his thumb around Aaron's clit and curls the fingers inside of him. "Kev, Kev, I wanna  cum on your fingers," he whispers.

 

Kevin shakes under him. His right hand stays firm around Aaron's waist, so Aaron can't roll his hips too much into the hand working him to orgasm, but even Aaron can hear the whispered curse under Kevin's breath as his fingers speed up. He opens his mouth to speak. Usually, Aaron would roll his eyes and curl his lip up and huff in exasperation, but now, _now_ , he lets Kevin do what he wants.

 

"Look at you," Kevin breathes. "So fuckin' gorgeous in my jersey, taking my fingers so well. You're so fuckin' wet for me."

 

Aaron moans, trying to find enough leeway to rock back down on Kevin's fingers. Kevin only allows it for a half a second before he clamps his hand tighter, curling the fingers in his left hand even rougher than before. It makes Aaron squirm even harder to get what he wants, but Kev _knows_ how that likes to be held like this, so instead of trying to wiggle free from those stupidly long pianists fingers he presses his nose into Kevin's neck and bites down on the nearest section of skin he can find. Kevin has always been sensitive on his neck, and the extra stutter of his fingers when Aaron starts sucking makes his thighs shake.

 

"Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum," Aaron whimpers, lips nearly vibrating against the slightly-overheated skin of Kevin's neck. When Kevin gasps under him Aaron can feel the full-body shiver under his hands. As soon as he lets himself finally succumb to his orgasm after five or ten or however many minutes of kissing and rubbing and Kevin understanding what he wants, what he needs, Aaron lets Kevin take his weight as he shakes through it.

 

His vision whites-out for a decent amount of time, but his hips continue to try and rock against Kevin after the initial pause. He doesn't even realize his teeth are still buried in Kevin's neck until the asshole pulls his fingers out and Aaron has to face post-orgasm reality head-on.

 

"Look at you, baby, got my fingers soaked," Aaron hears, Kevin's voice rough and low from arousal and pressed right against his hair. Aaron whines, just a little bit, but Kevin seems to get the hint and stays still until Aaron catches his breath back.

 

It takes Aaron another minute and a half to finally stand back up again. His boxers are soaked through with sweat and cum and the jersey stuck to his back is starting to cool, so he sheds them both, his own fantasies be damned. He tosses them aside with his jeans without a care. When he turns his face back to Kevin his own sweatpants have been willfully discarded to the floor by the couch.

 

One big hand is wrapped loosely around his cock, Kevin's long, scarred fingers riddling his left hand contrasting so fucking beautifully with the (roughly) eight and change inches he's packing. Aaron licks his lips subconsciously and eyes the thing, like he always does, before making the executive decision to sit back down onto Kevin's lap.

 

With his now bare pussy on display and the idea of Kevin's cock even bigger once Aaron remembers that thing is going to have to _fit inside_ _of_ _him_ , Aaron has to blink back the blinding wave of arousal that washes over him.

 

As if uncontrolling of his own limbs, Aaron reaches over and swipes Kevin's hand away. His own hand looks so _tiny_ compared to Kevin's cock, and that really shouldn't turn him on but it _does_ and Aaron wants that inside him. He wants that inside him and Kevin knows he wants that inside him and Aaron really, really should not be getting hot and bothered because his hand makes Kevin's dick look impossible to take.

 

(Which is a lie, it's always a lie, because he's fit Kevin's cock in him in every position under the sun after some gentle persuasion. It doesn’t stop him from looking back up at Kevin and biting his lip in thought, though.)

 

"Kev, you're so big. Always get reminded whenever I want you to fuck me," Aaron breathes. He shuffles himself closer, sitting directly on Kevin's thighs as he presses both his hand and Kevin's cock to his stomach. "Look at that, baby. Look at how big you are compared to me."

 

The sound Kevin makes is a half groan, half whine when he brings his hands up to grip Aaron's hips. Neither of them tear their eyes away from the slow drag of Aaron's hand, but Kevin seems to get impatient with the dry palm on his cock and pulls Aaron's hips up. It shocks Aaron enough to gasp, but he accommodates for the shock by rolling his eyes.

 

"Impatient much?" He huffs.

 

Kevin's smile is more of a sneer, but Aaron adjusts so he can guide the head of Kevin's cock to his pussy to shut him up before he can say anything. He lets himself stay there, rubbing the head over his clit and between his lips and spreading the lingering wetness from his previous orgasm.

 

"You gonna sit down, darlin'?" Kevin asks. His hips stutter up and the grip Aaron has on his cock slides just a little bit, but that doesn't stop him from re-lining up and sinking down out of spite for Kevin's attitude. Even when he's trying to sleep with him Kevin can't pretend to not be himself.

 

"Fuck you," Aaron gasps. He has to stop halfway down to get a hold of himself, but Kevin is good in not moving unless prompted. "C'mon, Kev, a little help."

 

Kevin doesn't say anything, instead slowly presses Aaron's hips down and onto his cock. It burns, just a little bit, just enough for Aaron to curl himself into Kevin's chest as soon as he's seated fully. His nose presses to the underside of Kevin's jaw just as Kevin gasps, and Aaron. Well, Aaron might just think that's the hottest thing he could've heard when Kev is balls deep and slowly rocking into him.

 

One of his hands comes up, slides across the tensed muscles of Kevin's stomach, and finds its home spread across Kevin's cheek and jaw. He directs Kevin's face from there, sitting up to guide him closer, press kisses across his lips, his neck, half panting into the seam of Kevin's mouth. Aaron can't do much else. He feels so _full_ , wants to stay in Kevin's lap like this for eternity if it means Kevin continues to grip his ass and hips for leverage to rock his hips into him.

 

"Kev," Aaron whispers. If he were to speak louder he _knows_ his voice would be wrecked and he dares not give Kevin the idea he's better than anyone else Aaron has ever slept with, even if it's true.

 

"Yeah, babe. Fuck, you're still so wet for me," Kevin whispers back. His voice is course even if he's speaking softly, even if his lips are a centimeter from Aaron's mouth. "Want me to move?"

 

Aaron nods, quick, the hand not holding Kevin's cheek pressed against his shoulder instead. "Yeah, babe, c'mon. Give it to me. Wanna feel you at practice tomorrow when we're runnin' drills."

 

As the fucking athlete he is, this gets to Kevin the most. His hands shift to completely hold Aaron's ass, shifting slightly on the couch and rolling his hips up. It's nothing more than a shallow thrust, but it gets to Aaron all the same and forces a high moan from his throat.

 

On the first real thrust up, Aaron whines and pushes his hips down to meet it. He moves the hand from Kevin's face to the back of his neck, fisting in the soft, brown tufts of hair there in an attempt to keep himself steady.

 

He feels open, almost. Kevin has always been determined to keep eye contact during sex and it hasn't changed since the last time they fucked, but this time Aaron is willing to allow it. With every thrust up, Aaron meets him without fault.

 

As payment, Aaron catches every moan with his mouth and Kevin doesn't pull away to complain.

 

"Kev, Kev, talk to me," Aaron groans. "Wanna hear you, yeah?"

 

"Yeah, Aaron, _fuck_ ," Kevin swears. He picks up the pace of his hips easily enough; Aaron knows he can go faster and has a stamina to resemble his own, but now is not the night for that. Aaron wants it quick and dirty and messy and he wants Kevin to fuck him so hard he sees stars when he cums again.

 

"Harder, harder, Kevin, can feel you everywhere, please, know my body so well. Please, please," he urges. Kevin takes one look at Aaron's flushed neck and tits and complies, his right hand coming up to get a grip on Aaron's waist for balance as he rocks into Aaron's body. Sweat is starting to form by Kevin's temple, but all Aaron can focus on is the sounds he's trying not to make.

 

"Yeah, yeah, love your pussy so much. God. So wet for me, so fuckin' willing to take my cock," Kevin whispers back. His thrusts speed up at his own words, as if he's starting to really believe them and they're getting to him as much as they're getting to Aaron. "Won't you make noises for me, baby? Let me hear you, don't worry, I have you."

 

Aaron feels his gasps stutter out of him without his control. He can't keep looking at Kevin like this, not when he's being fucked like it's their last night on earth (or whatever else cheesy shit), so he leans forward and presses his lips to the space under Kevin's right ear. He can't even bite properly with how forceful Kevin's thrusts are getting, so Aaron settles for gasping. Words are lost on him, nothing else matters outside of the incoherent babbling he's doing to fill in Kevin's request of making noise.

 

Aaron can’t even find it within himself to make noises out of spite; he's so far gone after one orgasm and steadily approaching another one that his moans are genuine.

 

"Kev," he whimpers, forcing his eyes open despite being unaware of when they closed. "You wanna cum? You can cum. Want you to fuck me through it, know you want to, babe."

 

Kevin groans, low and deep in his throat that shoots straight down to Aaron's pussy. The hand on Aaron's ass slides up and around his waist, the bulk of Kevin's arm supporting most of Aaron's back as the other snakes around Aaron's shoulders. He's pressed mostly to Kevin's front as his pussy is slammed into, so Aaron is forced to move his own arms around Kevin's neck and his lips to Kevin's damp forehead.

 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so good to me, fuck, use my pussy so well," Aaron gasps. Praise has always gotten Kevin off quick, so Aaron presses his breathy compliments as close to Kevin's skin as possible. "Your cock is perfect, you always get me off so good. _So good_. Kev, baby, please. Always able to fuck me just how I need it."

 

Constant validation is apparently too much for Kevin to handle at the moment, because Aaron finally feels Kevin's hips stutter into him despite how his thrusts don't stop completely. Kevin makes good on his promise to fuck into him through his orgasm and Aaron snakes a hand down between them to his oversensitive clit, rubbing himself to the sporadic thrusts into him.

 

"Yeah, yeah, good boy, fuck," Aaron groans. His eyes close on his own accord as he rubs himself to the slowing of Kevin's thrusting, the mix of sweat and cum making his fingers slide against his pussy in the best way possible. Aaron knows he's close again, he can feel it in his shaking thighs and soft, soft gasps and the way Kevin's arms around his back tighten.

 

It doesn't take long. A few more twists of his fingers and he's shaking, squeezing his eyes shut and slumping against Kevin completely. He rocks himself through it, letting Kev take his weight easily enough to trust working through his orgasm himself.

 

He's almost shocked that the trust is there to begin with, but not shocked enough to throw him from his pleasure. Kevin has him. Kevin's always had him.

 

"You're so good," Aaron hears when his ears start to work properly again. He briefly recognizes hands rubbing at his back. "Came twice on my fingers n' cock, drippin' with my cum. You okay, baby?"

 

Aaron grumbles out an unintelligible answer, but Kevin seems to understand anyway and huffs out a laugh.

 

"Yeah, me too. M'gonna lift you up now."

 

A pause, then a sigh. Aaron is very comfortable here, thank you very much. He's got his face in Kevin's neck and his legs are still very much jelly and he very much doesn't want to move right now.

 

"Want me to clean you up?"

 

"Was just gonna tell you to do that," Aaron huffs. Kevin lets them fall sideways on the couch, then slowly pulls out. His cock is streaked with his own cum and Aaron can feel a flood of it leaking out of him, but he refuses to do anything else that requires him to move more than a few inches at a time. Kevin has to slide himself over Aaron to get to the floor, but as soon as his feet touch the ground Aaron is shifting so none of Kevin's cum gets on the couch; Matt would have a _fit_ if he found out.

 

"C'mere," Kevin sighs, directing Aaron's legs so he's sitting properly, if slouched, on the couch. "Lemme get that for you." Aaron doesn't trust that awful smirk he's wearing one bit, but he spreads his legs anyway and Kevin is quick to drop to his knees in front of him.

 

"Didn't think you'd clean me up like this, you fuckin' heathen. Be easy on me. M'sensitive right now," Aaron grumbles. Kevin nods once, quick, then presses his tongue flat against Aaron's hole. His tongue is warm and wet and Aaron gasps at the feeling of it slowly licking into him, but Kevin doesn't draw it out. When he's reached as much as he can with his tongue, his fingers curl into Aaron with ease and slide more out of him with practiced movements.

 

It's filthy, and gross, and messy, but Aaron twitches every time Kev presses his lips closed around any part of him and sucks.

 

"Alright, alright," Aaron says, probably ten minutes later. He pulls Kevin's head away from his now somewhat cleaned pussy with a hand in his hair, but Kevin fights for a half a second before he pulls back completely.

 

As soon as Kevin is far enough away, Aaron slumps against the back of the couch and slides his legs closed. He doesn't want to move or think or even breathe for the next eight to ten hours, doesn't even want to _think_ about sex until at least a week from now, and Kevin seems to get the hint by standing up from his position on the floor.

 

"I," Aaron starts, eyes closed, ready to face his finals head-on, "need to pee."

 

"Then go pee?" Kevin says. From what Aaron can hear, he's puttering around in the kitchen. Aaron snorts at the mental image of Kevin trying to clean his dick of drying cum with a damp paper towel.

 

"Can't move. Can you get me my clothes?" Aaron calls back. He's getting cold, but he refuses to move half out of spite and half out of the fact that his legs refuse to work by themselves. "I'll pee when you get my pants. And a shirt. Do you have shirts here? Can I borrow one?"

 

"One sec," Kevin calls back. Aaron can hear him walking back towards the couch, eventually shuffling into his own sweatpants. "Long pants?"

 

"Mhm."

 

"Alright. Don't melt into the couch, we still have practice tomorrow."

 

Aaron's eyes fly open. "Oh,  _fuck you_."

**Author's Note:**

> find me over at [@castrumwritings](http://castrumwritings.tumblr.com) B)
> 
> comments/kudos always appreciated!


End file.
